It all started out like an ordinary day here at H. Frank Carey High School. I was rushing to get to school, refusing to leave the house until my hair was perfect. The day continued as it usually would: English ... eh; math ... boooring; studio art ... couldn't be better. That was until Mr. Monaghan's voice became heard throughout every classroom and office in the building.

"A national tragedy has occurred today," he started out. Instantly I thought he would be delivering news of an assassination of someone powerful. President George W. Bush came to mind. But when he announced that two planes had hit the World Trade Center, and another had hit The Pentagon, I didn't know what to think. It was one of the few times in my life that I was actually speechless. I was shocked, stunned and confused. There are a million other words out there that describe how I felt at that very moment. It all seemed so surreal. Our perfect nation was hit hard, harder than any other time before, So hard that it would really prove just how strong our nation was and if we really did have any sense of nationalism and unity.

I was so mesmerized by it all that it didn't even occur to me that I had an uncle who worked nearby until an hour and half later. Luckily for me, no one close to me - or even remotely close to me - was injured or killed in this mass destruction. Despite that important factor, the tragedy still hit close to home. You can never be prepared for something like this. Especially when it hits in your own backyard.

I didn't even see it happen and yet I was traumatized. Going home and watching the news for seven hours straight certainly didn't help. As I watched the destruction being replayed over and over on the television, I realized something. It didn't look like the United States anymore, let alone New York. It looked like some Middle Eastern country in which another suicide bombing occurred. And to see Palestinians in the streets cheering to see us suffer, it was like "Why don't you just rip my heart out and stomp on it. I don't think it's broken enough." To think, I, a die-hard Yankee fan, was scared to step inside a densely populated area like Yankee Stadium was a shocker. I was scared at the thought of having to go back to school the next day. I was scared to go to bed. I was scared to wake up. I was traumatized, no buts about it.